


I envy the music in your ears for its closeness to you (but oh please stay away)

by smallprotector



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: (Nastya is pining), Gen, Other mechs referenced, mentioned Aurora/Nastya Rasputina, mentioned Human Experimentation, unhealthy one-sided pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26324866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallprotector/pseuds/smallprotector
Summary: Nastya has conflicted feelings about Dr. Carmilla, immortality, and music.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	I envy the music in your ears for its closeness to you (but oh please stay away)

When Nastya awoke, her body felt weighed down, limbs pinning her to the lab bench she had been left on. For a while, all she could do was lay there as she heard the soft sound of singing drifted to her from another room, the voice hauntingly beautiful. The singing continued as Nastya dragged herself upright and got onto her feet, knees almost buckling as she stood. After getting used to the new balance of her body, she walked(“head held high Anastasia, we do not let any weakness show”), movements slowed, as if the air were thick honey. 

On the way towards the singing, she let her fingers trail across the walls, the sensation of the walls humming, as if the ship itself were trying to join in with the music. It made Nastya wonder about whether the ship was really as unthinking as Dr. Carmilla had implied- but the singing pulled her from her thoughts. 

Finally, she made it to the source, and saw Carmilla (her captor, her saviour), sitting with a ukulele in her lap, delicate fingers plucking at the strings of a haunting melody. But after only a second of Nastya standing at the doorway, Carmilla’s head snapped up, eyes narrowed and face hard, and for a brief moment Nastya felt like a prey animal, frozen by her body’s very blood. Then Carmilla’s face softened as she recognised Nastya. 

“Ah, you did manage to stand up! I was wondering if I got the ratios right.” 

Nastya nodded, still too dazed and exhausted to speak. Dr. Carmilla laid down her instrument, bright eyes taking in Nastya’s state as she moved closer. Cold hands gripped her wrists, moving her hands up and down as if checking for some variable Nastya didn’t understand. 

“Still a bit too heavy, perhaps. Sit down right here, there’s a good girl.”

Nastya did, and closed her eyes as Dr. Carmilla continued her examination, cold hands tilting her head and rotating her feet, muttering to herself all the while. Finally, she stood, seeming to have come to some conclusion without Nastya’s input. 

“You just stay there while I finish this set.” 

Nastya did as she was told, grateful for the chance to rest without something being injected into her or being cut open. The beautiful song resumed as Carmilla coaxed the strings of her instrument as deftly as she seemed to do everything else, with her voice raw and full of feeling as she sung, and it was all Nastya could do to listen (and to yearn, just a little, for someone to sing of her with such naked longing in their voice- maybe, if she stayed on the ship with Carmilla, after all the experiments were finished and-). She was jarred out of her thoughts as Carmilla spoke during a break between two songs. 

“You’ll be playing the violin on this next song.” 

It wasn’t a question, and Nastya saw no reason to answer it. Instead, she listened, enthralled. 

\---

The first time Nastya practiced the new songs with Carmilla, the latest tweaks to her blood’s formulation left her with cold running through her veins where before there had been burning. It was an improvement, but Nastya was starting to wonder whether infinity as a test subject might be worse than bleeding out in the palace that became her family’s tomb. But then Carmilla would look at her with those sharp eyes, intent on nothing but Nastya, and the intoxicating feeling of her full attention drove all thoughts like that from her mind. 

That attention was turned on her now, and Nastya stood straighter as Carmilla’s whole focus turned on her, a smile on her face as she gently corrected some small mistake she had made. 

Nastya would have executed her family all on her own if it meant having that smile aimed at her. 

Then Carmilla reached out, making to reposition some of Nastya’s fingers, and she flinched, half expecting something painful to happen. Genuine sorrow seemed to flit across Carmilla’s face at that, her hand withdrawing before she prompted them to play the next song, and Nastya let herself be lost in the beauty of the music. 

While Carmilla stopped playing to jot down some notes halfway through a song, Nastya noticed Jonny scowling at her. She glared at him, defiant. Just because he held some kind of stupid grudge against Dr. Carmilla for all she had done for him didn’t mean he was right. Dr. Carmilla had saved them, and she knew better than to be ungrateful, even as cold was turning her toes numb in her boots (and she did not want to think about what side effect she would experience next). 

Then they started playing again, and Nastya could have sworn the floor of the level was moving in time with the beat. 

\---

The winged scientist could play the keyboard. Of course she could, of course she didn’t just have bioengineered wings and know how help with the Doctor’s research, of course she could also play the fucking keyboard. 

And Carmilla was all over her, guiding her hands across the keys and pointing out little improvements she could make, all while talking with that damned sweet voice (that voice that she hadn’t used with Nastya for decades now, the same voice that came with syringes and scalpels and pain). 

She had been so stupid, thinking that Carmilla’s smiles meant anything more, that she hadn’t just been a project for her, that whatever naive misguided feelings Nastya had had were encouraged for any other reason than to keep her sweet, pliable, easy to manipulate.

And Nastya could only watch, standing on the sidelines, playing her own parts as anger burned inside of her. She’d been talking with the ship more, maybe she could get the life support in La Cognizi’s quarters to malfunction. 

“Pay attention, Anastasia!” Carmilla’s voice rang out, in the harsh tone she used when she was irritated. 

She would definitely make sure something malfunctioned soon, no matter what the consequences might be. She hoped any deaths that resulted would be permanent. 

\---

Nastya was performing on some small noisy planet, a strange wooden toy at her side, when she next played with Dr. Carmilla. 

It was strange, how easy it was to fall back into the rhythm of Carmilla’s songs, that same enchanting voice that had seduced her away from death and to a far darker fate leading her body through the motions that had been drilled into her. 

She felt more like a puppet than the wooden man. 

After they were done, and the others were joking like they weren’t all in terrible danger, arms encircled her, cold and strong. A terrified part of her wanted to lean into that embrace, beg for any scraps of attention, no matter what tortures would inevitably follow sooner or later in the name of research.

Then breath ghosted against her. “I’ve got some necks to wring.” 

Fuck. 

Nastya’s arms came up involuntarily as her shoulders hunched up, but as quickly as it began the embrace ended, Carmilla walking away. 

She tried to rally herself and the others, getting them into some semblance of order (mutinies were far easier to organise if everyone was on the same page). And of course no one had their goddamned guns. 

Nastya wanted to scream, but she squared her shoulders and marched them all back to the ship, hoping this time it wouldn’t be a walk to their doom. 

\---

“-so obviously I’ll be singing Loki! It just makes sense!” 

“Oh really? When was the last time you tried to overthrow a tyrant? Oh wait, you were one!” 

“Ah piss off, you know I fit the part better!” 

“I want to play the synth,” Nastya said, not wanting to wait until that discussion was settled. Immortals not bound by linear movement through time had no reason to come to a consensus before they were good and ready. And usually that took a few murders, and right now she had no patience for that.

“Not the violin?” 

Nastya shook her head. Her hand drifted towards the wrenches on her belt, ready to discourage any further questions with swift and decisive violence. When it proved unnecessary, she moved over to her instrument, playing small snippets of music. 

“What do you think, Aurora, want to help me compose a song you can join in on?” 

Exclamation marks flooded through the channel they used for private conversation among the other crew members. 

“I’ve always heard you singing with us, love.” 

And during that rehearsal, Nastya was finally free of eyes watching her critically, and no voice called her further from herself than she wanted to go. Instead, she stood surrounded by music she had helped shape from its inception, and knew that the very ship she was in would kill anyone who dared hurt her.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appriciated! (pls XD)


End file.
